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#angry lambert
ladydeadrabbit · 1 year
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Bitter, Evil Hearts [Eskel] Chapter 4
Chapter 4: The Time of Contempt, Chapter 4 [12/2022]
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"They roam the land, importunate and insolent, nominating themselves the stalkers of evil, vanquishers of werewolves and exterminationators of specter's, extorting payment from the gullible and, on receipt of their ignoble earnings, moving on to dispense the same deceit in the near vicinity. The easiest access they find at cottages of honest, simple, and unwitting peasants who readily ascribe all misfortune and ill events to spells, unnatural creatures, and monsters, the doings of wind spirits or evil spirits. Instead of praying to gods, instead of bearing the witcher, the godless changeling, will turn around his fate and save him from misfortune."
----Anonymous, Monstrum, or Description of the Witcher
'Gors Velen,' Eskel commented, coming to rein in his black stallion alongside his lover. ``Remind me why we're here again?'
It took approximately 3 weeks total for the sorceress Esmeray of Carsten and Witcher Eskel to reach the city of Gors Velen from Kaer Morhen. The two could've gotten there much faster if Eskel would've just agreed to take a portal from city to city until they reached their destination- alas, just like Geralt, Eskel had an unreasonable amount of hate [or perhaps fear?] of portals. Plus, there was also the fact that Eskel was in need of work and didn't want to miss out on any possible job opportunities on the road- so the two had to go by horseback.
The city of Gors Velen itself, like most cities on this side of the continent, was surrounded by towering brick walls with sky-scraping towers to pick up from within those walls. And beyond the city was a vast grey-green sea that sparkled from the early-rising sun, freckled only a few places with the sails of merchant's vessels. Esmeray stopped her grey mare just before the sand drop that led to the city before the pair.
'We'll only be here briefly, my love,' Esmeray replied. 'Then we shall be off to Thanedd, and from there we shall attend a banquet-'
Eskel groaned.
'-at Aretuza. Stop whining. I have to attend, even if I'm taking a break from politics. Every sorceress and well-respected sorceress will be there. Think of it as my version of a yearly Kaer Morhen witcher reunion. Now, sit up, and let's continue on the road. We're simply going to be here to stop, rest for the evening, and continue on our way- and yes, you will have to wear a doublet for the banquet. Hush now, my love, I shall find one comfortable for you to wear.'
The bridge leading to Gors Velen was a long column full of wagons, horses, and even travelers on foot. And it was at this moment that Eskel remembered precisely why he hated cities. It had to have taken at least an hour before the pair moved from their spot on the bridge and for traffic to lighten up, and when they did finally reach the guard's stand post at the gate, they were promptly stopped and questioned why they were entering the city. It was all quite unnecessary, really, and Eskel didn't miss the way they looked at Esmeray and then scrunch up their nose at him.
'Not bad,' Eskel gave a compliment once they were through the gate and into the bustling city. 'Use any sort of glamours to charm them?'
'Only on my hair, love. Every sorceress has their defining feature about them in which they accentuate. For some, it's their eyes, in which they use eye shadow makeup. For others, it's their bodies, that they reveal in form-fitting attire. For me, it's my hair, which I keep long and straight and only enhances it with dyes every once in a while to keep that red you love so much. The sun, unfortunately, likes to bleach my hair blonde in the summers.'
'So explain to me what exactly this banquet at Aretuza is about again?' Eskel and Esmeray were now walking side by side, leading their horses behind them by the reins.
'It's like any other banquet. We're just supposed to show up, dress nice, and pretend like we're enjoying ourselves. It's something we sorcerers do at least once every year to show no ill will, even though half of them are plotting in some way against each other- ugh! And I used to actually enjoy going!'
Eskel smiled at this, finding it just a bit amusing.
'Right, so we'll go, stand around and be uncomfortable, drink watered-down wine, and eat very little in order to be "polite" or some shit; is that right?'
'Precisely,' Esmeray nodded with a grin of her own, 'and then we'll go back to our hotel room and have sex.'
Eskel immediately perked up at this.
'And remember, Eskel, meet me at the Narrat Inn by noon. We'll have lunch together there and then prepare for the banquet.'
Eskel understood the importance of this banquet and why Esmeray was stressing it so to him- but even still, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at her. She was treating him like a child! But he, nonetheless, also nodded in understanding before exiting the tailor's store they had stopped in to make arrangements for their outfitting.
Once out of the store, Eskel was once more thrown into the throng of the city; carts rumbled past, people walked in groups, and horses and oxen trodden up and down the busy lanes. Eskel had time to himself now, at least a few hours, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he wanted to do. It had been so long since he'd last been in a city- and even then he couldn't think of anything to really do besides buy stuff and eat.
The dark-haired witcher turned down a street and then turned down another before taking a right and a left. At this point, he was just wandering aimlessly between merchant stalls, barrels, and weirdos selling goods right out of their parked cars. It was only after passing another 4 stalls did the little shop catch his eye.
It sat across the lane from him and in between two other buildings sporting the name "Frank's Chocolate's and Baked Goods," and that was all Eskel needed to see before entering.
Margarita Laux-Antille, otherwise known as "Rita," was a shapely fair-skinned woman with wild blonde curls and deep green eyes- which she usually executed by wearing green- who emerged entirely nude from the hot pool of water provided by the Inn in the bathhouse section. Ciri sat near the edge of said pool, only her legs submerged in the waters as she focused her gaze down shyly at her lap; clutching a small towel to her body. Behind Ciri, lounging across a couple of chairs were Esmeray and Yennefer.
Yennefer of Vengerberg, like what the poets described, was a beautiful woman with an ugly attitude. Yennefer was unique to most, however, because of her violet-colored eyes and long inky black hair that she often wore in curls to flow across her black clothing.
'You, girl,' Margarita called to Ciri, 'be so good as to hand me a towel. And please stop being angry with me.'
Ciri snorted but still did as she was told. After a day of dragging Eskel around to find him a proper tailor to outfit him, Esmeray had made plans to meet up with him later in the day while she met up with sorceress Margarita, Tissaia de Vries [who was a much older sorceress with neat dark brown hair that she always wore pulled back], along with Yennefer and [much to Esmeray's surprise] Ciri. Apparently, Yennefer and Ciri had been traveling with each other for some time now after Geralt sent Ciri off to the Temple of Melitele for education.
'She seems like a young seal,' Margarita jokes, drying herself off. 'And is as shapely as a naiud. Will you give her to me, Yenna?'
'That's why I brought her here,' Yennefer answered.
'Which class shall I put her in? Does she know the basics?'
'She does, but she can start at the beginning like everyone else. It won't do her any harm.'
'That would be wise,' Tissaia added. 'That would be wise indeed, Yennefer. The girl will find it easier if she begins with the other novices.'
It was then that another voice interrupted the group:
'My humble apologies, noble ladies,' it was the innkeeper calling from behind a silk screen. 'Please forgive my daring to disturb, but a certain 'Witcher Eskel '' has arrived for Madame Esmeray.'
'Very well, then,' Esmeray took a stand from her spot. 'Ladies, shall I see you later this evening?'
'Looking forward to it.'
'Yes, of course.'
'Until then, Esmeray.'
Ciri was the only one who didn't say anything, but she did look up as Esmeray passed and the red-headed sorceress threw her a sympathetic smile. Going to school at Artuza will most certainly not be easy on Ciri, especially considering her fiery personality, but with a teacher as kind as Margarita, Esmeray had hoped that she would do well.
“I have nothing against witchers. Let them hunt vampires. As long as they pay taxes.”
—Radovid lll the bold, King of Redania
The sky grew dark rather quickly after Esmeray and Eskel had returned to their privately rented room within the tavern. Esmeray stood clothed in nothing but a see-through black robe overlooking the large windows. From where she currently stood, she could see the Tower of Aretuza set in the ocean miles away.
It looks awfully menacing with the black clouds and dark angry wasters around it.
They had about 3 hours to waste before they needed to attend the banquet.
Esmeray turned to the face of the snoring witcher and chuckled softly at the sight of him all curled up and tuckered out after the festivities together. Eskel was always a bit of a cuddler, this fact was doubled after sex- it was a miracle Esmeray even managed to crawl out of the bed without him locking her in an iron grip.
A small shiver of excitement ran along the sorceress's spine as she recounted him just an hour before; gripping and squeezing her ass as he drove himself into her- and oh gods how he felt inside of her! The witcher could make her cum for hours on end, the mere memory just makes her wanna bind his wrists to the bedframe and ride him all night.
Before meeting Eskel, sex had mattered very little to the sorceress. She had had her fun and even been involved in a couple of scandalous relationships- mainly one being the one she had with Philippa Eilheart- but sex was never a priority for the woman. It still wasn’t, but Eskel always managed to ignite a primal flare within her that she just couldn’t help but dance to.
Eskel wasn’t a particularly kinky person, per se, he mostly enjoyed positions in which he could see her face. But it was the endurance of the act of sex that Esmeray most enjoyed when doing it with Eskel.
From the moment the two began fucking, he never once treated her as something replaceable.
Esmeray was startled when one of the witcher’s yellow cat-like eye’s popped open to stare at her. She jumped at the sight of- just how long had she been staring at him?
Eskel’s scared lips curved up into a smile as he let out a breathy laugh- half-muffled by the pillow his face was buried into.
‘Are you just going to keep watching me or are you going to come over here and join me?’
Esmeray shot her lover a cheeky look before silently making her way toward the bed all the while allowing her thin robe to slide off of her slender body. Eskel let out a sigh at the sight of her pale freckled chest and rolled over so that he was watching her on his back. In doing so the blanket slipped down to just above his groin.
‘Do you witchers ever truly tire from sex?’ Esmeray said as she eyed the growing tent Eskel’s cock was creating with the sheets.
‘With you, darling, never.’ Eskel shot her a wink as his smile widened.
‘We’ll see about that,’ Esmeray muttered before laying her naked body halfway across his own- positioning her upper body to meet with his middle before pulling down the blanket and giving his cock access to spring fully to life.
Esmeray’s delicate lips made contact with Eskel’s ball’s in a nipping kiss, causing the Witcher’s hips to twitch up, but once the woman rapped her fingers around his length- Eskel couldn’t help but throw his head back onto the pillows.
Typically, Eskel much preferred being on the giving end rather than the receiving one- but over the years of being with Esmeray, despite their long break-up, he had learned very quickly that it was better to let her have her way with him first before she allowed him to have his.
So, confined to the fate he had agreed upon, the witcher allowed himself to lean back and watch his partner do some dirty work- only taking control of the situation once he got fed up with her constant teasing… Which wasn’t long after.
Not in any sort of forceful way, Eskel gripped the back of Esmeray’s head by wrapping his fist up with the tail of her long braid and guiding her movement down on his perked cock. Esmeray didn’t fight the change in power and allowed the witcher to sheath himself in her mouth before pulling her back up slightly by her hair before the process recycled once more.
Oral wasn’t Esmeray’s strong suit, she was willing to admit- her gag reflex was all too sensitive, but she managed to cope by gripping Eskel’s slightly hairy thighs as he stretched her throat- and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little aroused by the pull of her hair.
The moment only lasted for so long, however, as Eskel pulled her up and completely off his cock and pushed her down onto the bed before guiding his length to her awaiting core. Now, this was his favorite part.
Then the soothsayer spoke thus to the witcher: ‘This counsel I shall give you: don hobnailed boots and take an iron staff. Walk in your hobnailed boots to the end of the world, tap the road in front of you with the staff and let your tears fall. Go through fire and water, do not stop, do not look back. And when your boots are worn out, when your iron staff is worn down, when the wind and the sun have dried your eyes such that not a single tear will fall from them, then you will find what you are searching for, what you love, at the end of the world. Perhaps!
And the witcher walked through fire and water, never looking back. But he took neither hobnailed boots nor a staff. He took only his witcher's swords. He obeyed not the words of the soothsayer. And rightly so, for she was wicked.
—Florence Delannoy, Tales and Legends
Eskel had nearly forgotten about what it was like going to a banquet with Esmeray, and just how truly miserable it all really was.
The servants never put out enough wine, it seemed, for Eskel to ever get truly drunk on- and whatever wine they did have was always watered down, as well as the food being small bite-sized pieces of bread or crackers with some sort of meat or cheese on top. So even if he wanted to, Eskel could never really pig out.
There also never seem to be enough chairs about for everyone to have a seat. On the other hand, there never seemed to be a shortage of stares.
Still, Eskel had agreed to attend this night with Esmeray, and he wasn’t about to back out of his promise now- even if the velvet red doublet he wore made him sweat his balls off and the ruffled white collar was itchy.
Esmeray, naturally, was the one to pick out their garments for the evening- but it was ultimately Eskel’s own fault for what he currently wore as he had complained that the original doublet she had tried to get him to wear made him look like a Nilfgaardian, so they had settled on the frilly red one.
Esmeray also wore red though her gown lacked the dramatic flair that Eskel’s doublet held.
Aretuza was like a palace with its huge central hall and ‘T’ shaped structure- it was a wonder that he and Esmeray weren’t staying overnight in this place. But maybe that was the point in all this; to pop in and say hello before disappearing altogether.
The longest side of the central hall, one that he and Esmeray found themselves walking through with their arms linked, had extremely tall and narrow windows reaching almost to the ceiling. The ceiling of the entire place was also far too high for Eskel’s liking and more often than not Esmeray would gently slap his chest to make him look forward again.
It wasn’t until Eskel caught the familiar sight of Geralt and a woman he could only assume to be Yennefer did he actually start paying attention to anything.
The couple was currently engaging in a conversation with a couple of other sorceresses- one of which Eskel recognized to be Sabrina Glevissig. Her hair hadn’t changed, or her pin-striped style from when he’d last seen her.
‘Esmeray! Oh, darling! It has been ages!’
Eskel cringed at the call of Sabrina but compliantly followed his mistress over to the group.
At least Geralt was there.
The enchantresses all began embracing one another and kissing one another by the ear on either side of the head before immediately indulging in conversation.
‘I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again, Esmeray, especially after that whole ordeal at Kear Morhen,’ Sabrina stated- obviously referring to the situation with Eskel’s “child surprise.”
He tried not to think about that. He knew sorceresses could read his mind and he had no doubt that’s what they were doing- but he didn’t want to think about what happened or remember the events of the day. The day he was betrayed and horribly mutilated. So instead he thought about Esmeray, and all the dirty things she had done to him just before attending this banquet.
He remembered the way she looked with his cock stuffed in her mouth and how he controlled the pacing and rhythm by pulling on her braid. And he thought about all the things he wanted to do to her right now and what he planned to do when they left the banquet.
As these thoughts and memories bounced around in his mind- he thought he caught sight of Sabrina Glevissig’s cheeks reddening.
A bubble of nervousness and anxiety began to build and well up within the pit of Esmeray’s stomach once she spotted Philippa Eilhart, and this nervousness nearly ruptured into a fart once the dark-haired sorceress had begun to approach.
She knew that she would be here and sooner or later they’d have to speak with one another- still, Esmeray felt that this moment came all too quickly.
Esmeray had left Eskel’s side to meet Philippa halfway- but the witcher hardly noticed a thing as he was soon accompanied by Dijkstra [a Redanian spy] and once more, Geralt.
‘How lovely to see you, my dear,’ Philippa greeted with a kiss on the corner of Esmeray’s mouth. Esmeray returned the kiss. ‘I see my dear Dijkstra is already making merry with your date- and oh! What an interesting date he is. Sabrina was all too eager to tell me all about her encounter with you and him up at Kaer Morhen some years ago.’
‘Sabrina is a fucking cod-headed bitch. Besides, have you seen what she’s wearing? Pin-stripes have gone out of fashion ages ago!’ Philippa let out a laugh at Esmeray’s remark. A genuine laugh. ‘But I am glad to see you again, Phil. Truly. The way we left things…’
‘Hush now, my dear. It’s a joy for me to see you again too. Let’s leave it at that and enjoy the evening.’
Philippa wasn’t the only familiar face that Esmeray had run into that night. Besides Yennefer of Sabrina, Esmeray had a chat with Triss and then later on with Francesca Findabair and Keira Metz, as well as with Ida Emean acp Sirrey.
Ida and Francesca were elven sorceresses and therefore didn’t hold as much of an interest in human politics as Keira Metz did- but it was enlightening nonetheless to speak to them.
When the evening had begun to wade and Esmeray found Eskel once more bored out of his mind, the sorceress had elected that they leave and retire to the Inn for the evening. Eskel was all too thrilled by this notion.
Eskel tugged Esmeray along with himself as he barged into their shared room rented out at the Inn before shutting the door behind himself loudly.
Inhaling the stale air around him, Eskel could still smell the sex they had left behind for the banquet. It was time to fix that.
Eskel eagerly kissed way up Esmeray’s bosom and to her lips. Hands were on her body before she even knew it.
Esmeray moaned in response to the attention as she reached behind herself to unlace the ribbon holding her dress up.
‘Thank the Gods,’ Eskel sighed as the dress fell away. He trailed his hands down her nude body as she led him backward and onto the bed. When they reached the bed, sloppy kisses were ordered to run down her chest and abdomen.
Eskel’s yellow eyes focused on her dreamily as he lowered his mouth to her core. She hadn’t been wearing underwear, the little mink. Eskel’s mouth drank her in like she was Est Est Tousiant wine, his tongue lapping at her folds eagerly.
Esmeray closed her eyes, leaned back, and moaned loudly while her fingers combed through his hair.
Eskel only pulled back to rid himself of the doublet and unbuckled his trousers before lining himself up with her entrance.
He was careful in rolling his hips into hers, making the beads of sweat glisten in the firelight and roll their way down her small breasts and listening to her sounds of pleasure.
‘I want to hear you, my dear,’ he groaned, pumping himself into her faster. His hips jutted against her with short gaps and grunts.
He was getting sloppy, which meant he was getting close. Esmeray reasoned her fingers up to brush away his bangs. Eskel’s eye’s opened up in silent confusion and shock, but the sorceress simply guided his lips down onto hers.
‘I fear for Ciri,’ Eskel began after an hour of silence the two peacefully shared together not long after sex.
‘Ciri is young, barely a teenager. Her future is undecided just as her pastis is filled with misfortune. But she’s a strong girl, smart too. She’ll be fine whatever comes her way.’
This easied whatever worried Eskel held. Still, he could not help but to doubt Esmeray’s words- the ones in regard to Ciri’s wellbeing, of course.
At the conclave, Herald had gone off and had a conversation with a wizard by the name of Vilgefortz. The two were gone a long time, leaving Eskel at the mercy of Dijkstra; but when Geralt returned from where ever it was the wizard had taken him… he seemed disturbed and wouldn’t answer any of Eskel’s questions.
Eskel couldn’t explain how, but he felt like something was about to happen- and one way or another, it would have something to do with Ciri.
This is the last chapter of this series that I will be publishing on here (for now), please consider following updates on this story here:
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panoffrying · 7 months
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Did another fun drawpile with my good friend ghost. Enjoy this cotl art!
You can find my lovely friend on insta @star_child_334 her art is beautiful please go check her out
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Yes Ben Lambert as Simon is cool and all but what about Ben Lambert as Daniel?
BONUS:
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teddy-bear-xing · 6 months
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Oh no the tragic gays are fighting
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powdermelonkeg · 4 months
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Just read your fic, I don't think I've seen anyone write Lambert so...calm? Not a critique whatsoever, I'm just shocked at how levelheaded he was, even when the dwarf was threatening him. It's a nice change of pace!
Thank you!!! (Fic in question here)
A lot of people write him as this angry, prickly, sweary little bastard. Which he can be, for sure, but when he's at his limit.
In the books, he's only mentioned for his mentorship of Ciri. <- Translation (to me): Good with kids. Compound that with his TW3 backstory of how he was treated as a kid, and you've got protectiveness.
In TW3, we see a lot more of him. His angry moments boil down to:
When he's tracking down a guy that murdered his best friend
When Yennefer says she's going to torture a being (that, to his knowledge, might be his niece under a curse) potentially to death
When he's being threatened by monsters that throw boulders at him
When Vesemir shows up with torture equipment that he kept for sentimental value
When Vesemir's dead and Geralt's pushing buttons
When he's relived some of his worst moments during his last trial where he lost ANOTHER friend of his, pointlessly
Which, tbh, are pretty solid reasons to be pissed off.
Is he sadistic? Yes. He killed two people that threatened his life by charming them into killing themselves and told the story to get a rise out of Geralt, and he's proud of the vengeance he got to exact on his dad.
Is he snarky? Absolutely. In nearly every sentence he says.
But off the top of my head, I've only ever heard him raise his voice twice: Once when demanding Jad Karadin's whereabouts, and once when Yen proposed the Trial of the Grasses.
Witchers are "emotionless mutants." This isn't true, but they ARE masters of their own bodies, from their reactions to their mutations. They can control the literal dilation of their pupils at will. Couple that with the kind of training that was exacted on them during Kaer Morhen's heyday, and you get someone who can shut down on command.
Lambert in TMYTIA, so far, hasn't been put in any position to make him angry. He's in control of the situation. He knows what he wants and exactly how to get it. Being able to hide how he's feeling on a job is always an advantage.
And beyond that, Lambert isn't governed by his wrath. He's bitter, sure, but he's also playful. If you take the few moments you get where he isn't grieving, you get someone who's incredibly silly, who likes to do impressions, who goes for a hug when someone says they love him, he names animals, he has the stupidest ideas when drunk. He plays Gwent and likes cracking jokes.
He's the kind of guy not to feel bad whatsoever about murdering a man. But he'd also drop a kid in a pile of snow just to make them laugh, or play whatever role game they asked him to.
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callmewishful · 4 months
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Just when you thought I’ve abandoned you, here I am to ruin your dash
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epicaandk0 · 8 months
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Amger
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artistsfuneral · 3 months
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@nanukthebleb tagged me for an impossible challenge! 😳🤭
List five of your all time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. We'll see which character of the five gets voted the most loved.
@kalikatze @a-kind-of-merry-war @spacey-froggy @ilikebigants @selectivegeekwithstandards @debellatis
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dapandapod · 2 years
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It is said Witchers doesn’t feel, and Lambert fucking hates that.
So he wears his every emotion on his sleeve, angry as it is.
His grief, his joy, his anger, his complicated and often clashing emotions. He wears them like an armor, brands them like a sword, weaponizing and wielding them, flaunting them just to prove a point.
Lambert when he cries doesn’t wipe his tears. He cries proudly.
The one emotion he fears is affection, because he barely knows it. But as Aiden comes along, he learns what it is like for someone to wipe his tears, to hold him tight, to have an arm wrapped over his shoulder, to someone standing with him at the edge of the lake, screaming their lungs out.
That one he is still learning. And even if he keeps it a little closer to his chest, Aiden is there to watch it unfold.
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ladydeadrabbit · 1 year
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Payback [Keira Metz/Lambert]
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In a fit of anger, Keira picked up the glass perfume bottle and chucked it against the wall. The glass, as expected, shattered into a million pieces on impact. However, this did no good in quenching the rage deep inside her.
It was Lambert, again. The ass of a Witcher never ceased to somehow get under the sorceress’ skin.
Geralt had warned her about him, and oh how she wished she’d heeded such a warning. Ever since coming to Kaer Morhen, the black-haired witcher seemed to have it out for the sorceress.
Keira clenched her teeth and balled up her fists before reaching out to grab something else off her nightstand. But before she could make a victim out of the hairbrush- a firm hand gripped her forearm as a pair of lips came to mutter in her ear.
“Y’know, you could do some serious damage with that grip of yours… I wonder what else you could do with those hands;” Lambert, the cause of Keira’s frustration as of late, muttered in her ear. The stubble on his chin stretched against the shell of her ear. His warm breath fanned out against her neck as his calloused fingers came down to stroke her dress-clad thigh.
‘By the gods! I can smell the cheap ale on his breath,’ Keira inwardly groaned.
Turning her green gaze on the man behind her, Keira saw the smug grin on Lambert’s ugly mug. She controlled herself enough to not roll her eyes and to instead mimic his lustful expression. Lambert took the bait, of course, and he closed his yellow eyes and leaned forward.
Abruptly, Keira pulled back and slapped him before uttering a spell and sending the young witcher flying out of her bed chamber.
“That'll teach ya,” Keira laughed as she slammed her door closed.
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vesemirsexual · 1 year
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wait no another one 🔀 for lambert adopting renfri
send me a 🔀 and a pairing, and i’ll shuffle my playlist and make an au based on the first song that comes up
No Roots - Alice Merton
okay this concept is mildly hilarious to me. but lambert ends up finding young renfri on the run from her stepmother and stregobor, and basically a feral little stray. she tries to steal his horse from the stables at an inn one night and he’s like I think the Fuck not. so renfri tries the big eyes “please mr I have nothing” and lambert is like wow cool, not my problem! begone little rat.
so anyway this kicks off renfri following him around and actively trying to rob his ass out of spite. he’s super annoyed and keeps telling her she’s lucky he doesn’t beat up kids, and she’s meanwhile like yeah i am going to take this assholes shit to sell. eventually she does actually manage to snatch some of his shit - he thought he’d finally gotten rid of the little brat, and while he was on a contract she DID actually do it. so he’s tracking her down like “right, going to make an exception, this kid is a fucking ASS” and it works out because miss renfri has drawn a little bit too much attention following a Witcher and she’s been hunted down by one of stregobors apprentices.
lambert gets about 5 mins into hearing the explanation about why dissecting little girls is totally cool actually before he loses it and the idiot loses his head. so now lambert is pissed off and he HAD wanted to teach this little shit a lesson but now she’s clearly terrified and shaking and okay he will watch her back for ONE night out here and then she’s on her own okay.
so lambert basically ends up with a child he can’t help but actually like. she’s vicious and she’s mouthy and rude and very determined to live (it does NOT remind him of anyone okay!!)
so now they’re staying moving because he doesn’t really know how big this is, and how many people are actually after this kid. and he thinks about taking her to kaer morhen, even if just for the winter, and he thinks about her teary terrified face when he’d found her, and he thinks about her in kaer morhen, and is completely rational about it of course - lambert decides he can’t take her there and he doesn’t want them to know about her. he doesn’t want their advice about children and they don’t know anything and he doesn’t want them giving renfri any terrible ideas about life.
so lambert isn’t returning home for a few winters and everyone is shattered because they think he’s dead. until there’s a rumour about a mouthy little bitch of a Witcher that literally cannot be anyone else, and one of his siblings hunts him down and is like …what the fuck is that? and lambert is immediately a little bit too defensive, too fierce about it all.
basically, baby boy has to face his trauma and they all have to ACTUALLY talk and clear the air. renfri is like woah mama mia you guys are way more messed up than me, comforting. lambert is actually doing pretty well at the parenting/mentoring thing and appears to be actually be trying to be a somewhat good example (it’s the cycle of healing and being better bitch)
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nerdycolorcupcake · 2 years
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So, i went on Twitter to find inspiration to draw Cult of the Lamb stuff and uh-
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Fancy to say, i was inspired
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Sneak peek:
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pigeoninabowl · 10 months
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Habe you guys heard about Cult Of The Lamb's next update is going to be about SEX
Here's some art dump
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kas-who · 2 years
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Get it, my fluffy follower xd
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stackthedeck · 2 years
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As a southerner sometimes it hurts me that all my favorite superheroes are from New York like thank god that Kaine moved to Texas because if Rouge had to be the only hero from the south I would have fucking lost it
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